


Yellow

by AceLucky



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Courage, Daydreams, Death, Digging graves, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Longing, Nature, Redemption, outdoors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 10:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5123831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceLucky/pseuds/AceLucky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short piece that takes place moments after Carol shoots Lizzie in Season 5. Carol reflects on her actions and reasons with herself, justifying those actions. She thinks about Daryl, wonders where he is and wants to make things right with Tyreese. This is just a one shot, a thought that has been going round in my head all day so I had to write it down!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yellow

She imagined the sound it would have made, an audible, piercing shot that would have echoed through the pines and woods. The silencer had robbed the girl of that last sound, last affirmation that she was alive before the bullet had taken her life. 

The sky, a dappled grey and blue seemed heavy, the colours had muddled into one. The longer Carol stared into the sky the less able she was to distinguish the two. Anything was better than staring forward and seeing the carnage she was responsible for. The day was silent, only the sound of a few distant birds, crows more than likely, she thought, they seemed to be the lucky ones, scavengers. They had more in common with the survivors, with her friends, than most creatures.

Finally Carol looked at the girl’s body laying 10 feet away from her; she’d loved the colour yellow and now was spread perfectly on the sea of flowers of that very colour. Blood staining her blonde hair as it tricked from the wound. Carol felt robbing her of her life had bought back the innocence she had been starting to lose. 

She walked slowly, almost cautiously towards Lizzie; she knew she had done what she had to do, just like when she killed David and Karen, putting an end to their suffering. It was to protect the group, to protect Judith or lil’ ass kicker as Daryl had named her. Her mind cast back to school and studying Macbeth, “What is done is done,” she said aloud. She faced the sky, spoke out to the crows, the ghosts of her past, “Give me your hand. What is done cannot be undone.” She let out a near silent cry as she stared at the now red flowers, brushed away the tears and stared, determined back up at the sky. “To bed, to bed,” she whispered, wishing that she had a bed to return to and someone to speak these words to. Though wondered if Tyreese was stood in the shadows watching her, though he could not have taken the young girl’s life, he knew she was right, knew there was no saving or redeeming her once she’d killed her sister. 

Carol knew what the world could do to people, long before the walkers and before the world had gone to shit. But now everything seemed so much clearer, people were ugly; they did ugly things for ugly reasons. But Lizzie, she wasn’t ugly, Lizzie had believed her actions were beautiful and they were born of love. She was just too young, too confused and had seen too much at such a young age to ever make sense of it.

The crows had moved in now, clearly eyeing up the dead and as of yet uninfected body, but Carol knew it wouldn’t take long. She knelt down and turned the 10 year old’s body. She carefully closed her eyelids and kissed her forehead. Fighting back the tears she pulled out her hunting knife and plunged it deep into the side of Lizzie’s head, making sure she didn’t come back.

She wrapped her arms round Lizzie’s small frame and lifted her, she wouldn’t cry over this one, the tears that were in her eyes, she’d brushed them away, that was all she could afford to lose over this. As she walked across the field and back towards the house she thought of the love Lizzie had displayed for her, she’d wanted to call her mum. She felt a lump in her throat remembering her own daughter and wishing she’d died in the same way, but there was nothing she could do. If she wanted to survive, wanted to save others and built a future she could shed no more tears. She had to remain resilient.

She thought of Daryl then, missed him, the way he spoke, the rare but tender physical interactions between the two of them. She felt as if Daryl was the closest she’d come to finding someone who understood her. Rick and Michonne were close too, but Daryl, he was the only one she’d truly let in. She indulged herself momentarily closing her eyes and imagining being on the back of his bike, her arms wrapped around his strong body, her face buried into his back. That was where she felt safe, that was where she felt at home, whenever she was with him. But Daryl was gone, they were all gone and she could only hope that one day their paths would cross again.

She came upon the house; a great sadness overwhelmed her when she made eye contact with Tyreese. He took his hat off and lowered his head at the sight of Lizzie’s limp body. He was digging two graves next to each other; Mika’s body was wrapped in a blanket at his feet. 

Digging graves was exhausting, physically and mentally she had come to learn too soon. She placed Lizzie’s body next to her sister and placed a hand on Tyreese’s as he stopped digging for a moment. She squeezed gently, “I know this isn’t okay, but it is, it has to be, it will be okay again,” she promised and then picked up the other shovel. 

Tyreese placed a hand on Carol's shoulder, he couldn't think of any words to say so he simply let it rest there for a moment and then threw his shovel to the ground and hugged Carol. She froze for a moment, not used to that type of interaction with him, but she appreciated it nonetheless. Wrapping her arms round him in return they stood in silence, they had each other for now. 

The only sound was that of the two of them shovelling dirt and the crows that remained, Carol was happy with the peace but found herself digging more angrily and haphazardly the deeper she got. She needed Daryl, she’d promised herself after her husband she’d never need or rely on anyone ever again. And whilst she knew she could survive without him, that wasn’t the point, she wanted to thrive, wanted to live. That was what hurt the most, knowing that she needed him and not knowing where to start looking, being able only to look at the child who she’d murdered in the past hour and that nothing could take that away.


End file.
